


pity sex

by anillegiblemess



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Depression, Drug Use, Head Injury, M/M, Memory Loss, Mental Health Issues, Post-Sburb/Sgrub, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychosis, Self-Harm, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Content, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Trans Character, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-05-30 07:19:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15091856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anillegiblemess/pseuds/anillegiblemess
Summary: the new world is a cruel, cruel place to john egbert.





	1. happy birthday, john egbert.

**Author's Note:**

> no one asked for this but i also didn't ask to get back into homestuck yet. here we are.
> 
> this is going to be a short chaptered fanfic. yes, it will have a happy ending i promise, though all the tags and this first chapter are very misleading.
> 
> john is trans deal with it.
> 
> also i apologize for any inaccuracies/out of character-ness. i haven't touched homestuck since it ended and i'm rereading it at the moment (i'm only on like act 3 lmao)

It was your 20th birthday, and Dave had invited you over to his house for a party that he had hosted just for you. 

Dave’s house looked different, enveloped in smoke, lighting low and dimmed down. He was sitting next to you on the couch, beer and champagne bottles littered around on the floor, in between the cushions. He passed the bong back to you, and you took a long drag, inhale and hold, let it soak into your lungs. You exhaled, full and lightheaded. You held your drag, you didn’t cough. Dave seemed impressed, and he smirked at you. His sunglasses were left on the table, and all you could see was the slight glint of his red eyes, bloodshot from his high.

Everyone else had left. It was just you, your thoughts and your best friend. You were stoned out of your goddamn mind, watching the walls melt and shift into colors. Your head didn’t feel attached to your spinal cord, just floating. You were sinking back into the softness of the plush material beneath you. Your mind was fuzzy, dizzy from the alcohol, and probably the drugs too.

How late was it? It felt like hours had passed. You thought briefly about how you should get home. You mumbled something along those lines to Dave, and tried to stand, but you stutter stepped and found yourself falling. Dave caught you, dragging you back and urging you to stay. His arms felt like safety… Almost. 

“You should stay, John. It’s okay if you spent the night, I wouldn’t mind, really.” He reassures you. The slur in his voice sounds sickeningly sweet. Some type of adoration drips from his words like honey. You were too fucked up to understand.

You feel warm hands curl up your torso, underneath your shirt. You squirm. Dave’s hands are tight on you, and he holds you. At first, it’s kind of ticklish, and you start laughing. What was he doing? He laughs along with you, and continues, his fingers brushing your nipples.

“Oh my God, _stop_ Dave.” You breathe through laughs. It’s a little weird. You don’t think you like where this is going. You hope he doesn’t feel your scars underneath your chest. You try to add some command in your voice, but Dave doesn’t seem to get it, and continues. 

You squirm again. This isn’t safe. You don’t like this. You want to tell him. You want to move, but the intoxication keeps you rooted where you are. You’re trapped, and panicking, breaths coming fast now. Dave moves his hand down to your pants.

“Dude, please, I’m serious.” You slur, and try to move his hands away from you, but he blocks your movements, taking both of your skinny wrists and pinning them behind your head.

“It’s okay.” He shushes you. He repeats this phrase over and over, but it really doesn’t help you. He’s going to figure out your secret, in the worst way possible. You felt tears leaking out of the corners of your eyes.

You hear your pants being unbuttoned, and he slips his free hand past your boxers. He leans over and kisses your cheek, and when he brushes past your clit, he smiles, “I thought so, you fucking tranny.”

Heat rushes to your face as you feel yourself blush. You feel disgusting, violated, “Get off me, Dave. Seriously, please…” You’re crying now. Tauntingly, he takes his fingers from your entrance and wipes your tears away. He repeats that it’s okay. It’s not okay. Is it really okay? 

Hands go back to where they were. You feel too weak, too tired to try struggling some more. You give in as he pushes his fingers in you. You moan. It feels good. You hate this. Please stop, why was he doing this? You were friends. Really good friends. He hooks his fingers, rubs against a sensitive spot. You arch your back, doing your best to try and stop yourself from sounding like you enjoy what’s going on, because you don’t. Do you? Your clit aches for touch, for attention. You want to die. You hope Dave murders you.

He takes his fingers out. Hastily, you scramble off the couch, trying to get away. 

“I’m not done yet, bitch.” He grabs you, and the movement startles you. Your glasses fall from your face as you whip around to shrug him off. Disoriented, you trip and fall. Your head hits the corner of the glass coffee table, and you black out.

*

Gold sunlight washes into your eyes. You blink and groan. Your head throbs, skull feeling like it’s about to split at the seams. You hiss with pain, clapping a hand to the side of your scalp. You can feel a large bump underneath your jet black hair. You try to clear the fog from your brain and reach into your memories from the night before, but everything is blurred and blackened out. Upon looking and assessing your surroundings, you find yourself on Dave’s couch. There were various alcoholic beverages on the table, along with his bong and a bag of weed. Your glasses are folded neatly on the table, and you pick them up and put them on, the world coming back into focus. A soft blanket covered you, and you were still wearing your day clothes from yesterday.

The smell of breakfast wafted from the kitchen nearby. The shape of Dave appears, and in his hands he carries a plate of eggs and bacon.

“Morning, sunshine.” He says. He already has his ironic sunglasses on. 

You shake your head of sleep as he comes near you and hands you the plate, “What happened last night?” You take the breakfast from him and start nibbling on the bacon.

“You got super fucked up last night. You tried to go back to your place, but you tripped and hit the edge of the coffee table. That’s why you got that big bruise on the side of your head. It knocked you out, so I put you back on the couch and let you sleep it off. I was gonna take you to the hospital if you didn’t wake up, but, well.”

You nodded, grimacing as the pain kept stabbing you, “Yeah, I was wondering what that was all about. I think I’m okay, I have a bump but it doesn’t seem serious.” 

“That’s good. Feel free to stay a little longer, I don’t mind.” Dave sat down next to you on the couch. The movement startled you, and you flinched. Panic washed over you. Something was wrong. You didn’t get it. Why were you so afraid?

“Dude, you okay?” Dave asked, noticing your fear. 

“Dave. Dave what did you do to me last night?” Why were you accusing him? You didn’t even know what he did. Wait, you did know. He tucked you in and let you rest. That was it, right? Your heart was beating a million times a second. Why couldn’t you just calm down?

“What are you talking about? I just told you, I put you to bed. You must have had a nightmare while you were out or something.” He answered so casually, but a flash of concern did cover his face. A part of you believed him, but another part was still tensed up, on the defense.

“I… I don’t know. Sorry, I didn’t mean to accuse you of anything like that. I don’t know why I would think that. I mean… You’re my best friend, you would never hurt me…” You trailed off, staring at the sunny side eggs you hadn’t touched, the half eaten bacon now growing cold. You sighed, “I think I should just go home…”

“Sure. Feel better, man.” He took the plate from you, and you went ahead and gathered your things, finding your shoes at the front door and putting them on. You walked down the road back towards your place. When making a place for you all to live on Earth C, your living quarters had been grouped close together as you all considered yourselves friends and wanted to be near one another. Your house wasn’t far from Dave’s and the rest of the Beta Kids. 

It was quite early in the morning from the look of the sun on the horizon. It’s rays washed the nicely cut, suburbia style lawns in a shade of cantaloupe orange. Birds talked to each other in the trees, singing their songs of dawn. A cool breeze skidded the streets, and a brief feeling of yawning loneliness fell upon you. You bunched up the hoodie you were wearing and drew its hood over your head. Despite it being spring, it was still early enough in the year where the mornings were quite chilly. 

You made it to your house, fumbling with the keys and walking in. You had to use the restroom, so you headed upstairs to the bathroom. Upon pulling down your pants, you noticed drops of blood staining your boxers. You sighed. What a great start to the day. You briefly considered it was a little early for your period to be starting, but you shrugged it off. 

After doing your business, you decided to take a shower. The warm water might help your aching head. As you scrubbed yourself, you were overcome with a feeling of complete dirtiness. Grabbing more soap, you scrubbed harder. Nothing seemed to help. You were frustrated, and yet again, a state of panic fell over you. What was wrong with you? 

Like phantom limbs, you felt the presence of hands unfamiliar to you all over your body. You freaked out, whirling around in your tiny shower, looking for the invisible culprit. The sensation crawled over you, tiny spiders. You started sobbing, and eventually, you found yourself sitting on the cold tile floor of your shower, tears falling from your eyes, staring at the drain as the water swirled into it, disappearing into the pipes. Blood fell from your skin where you scrubbed too hard, collecting with the soap suds, turning white to dark pink. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, “Please… Please stop. Please stop crying.” You didn’t know what was happening. You felt like you were cracking, and the walls were closing in on you, silent unseen eyes watching you fall apart, naked and vulnerable, alone.

*

Karkat took a draw on his cigarette, smashing the A button on his Xbox controller. He cursed. Dave was kicking his ass at this stupid fighting game he had got.

“You’re cheating, you asshole.” Dave kept cornering Karkat’s fighter to a certain part of the map that often glitched and caused his character to get stuck. Once stuck, he would beat the shit out of Karkat’s character, and all he could do was watch helplessly, Dave smirking at the TV screen.

The Game Over screen flashed, and Karkat was announced the loser. He threw the controller on the ground, frustrated, “Goddammit!”

“I think it’s time to get good, Karkat.” Dave plucked the cigarette out of Karkat’s lips and kissed him. Karkat blushed in response. He really couldn’t get mad at his Matesprit.

“I think it’s time for you to be a fair player, Dave.” Karkat retorted, and Dave stuck his tongue out at him. Karkat growled, playfully, and kissed his human partner back. 

They made out for a bit, then Karkat broke away, smiling. Dave’s eyes burned into him as Karkat looked at the carpeting. Dave had been a little pushy lately with the intimacy. He wasn’t complaining, but at times it could be draining, “Say, wanna invite John over? I think he’d like this game. We haven’t hung out with him in a while, not since his birthday at least.” John’s birthday was about a month ago. Karkat had come over for a bit, and was one of the last ones to leave. Once hating the annoying dweeb, he had quickly become one of his best friends over the years. 

Dave seemed, oddly enough, taken aback. He shook his head, “Nah… I don’t think John wants to see me. Besides… We’re kinda busy at the moment, aren’t we?” 

“What do you mean by J-” Karkat was interrupted as Dave kissed him hard on the lips. He shrugged it off mentally. Oh well, it must not be too important. They made out some more, Dave tugging incessantly at Karkat’s sweater before the two decided to go upstairs.

*

Karkat awoke before Dave. It was eleven at night, and his nocturnal senses were kicking in. He got out of bed and put on his clothes. He was thinking about John ever since he had brought him up earlier, and felt like he should go visit himself if Dave wouldn’t invite him over. He grabbed his pack of cigarettes on the bedside table and lit one, preparing to silently creep out of the bedroom. Dave stirred behind him and Karkat looked back.

“You headed home already?” Dave asked sleepily.

“Yeah, I’ve got stuff I gotta do.” Karkat mumbled, teeth clamped on his cigarette as he took some draws. 

“That sucks, man.” Dave commented, watching as Karkat put on his shoes, “Dude, you should consider moving in with me. We’ve been dating for like five years. I’m lonely here without you, babe.” 

Karkat smiled at the nickname of adoration, “I know, but, I’m still not sure yet. You know how much I like my privacy and all.” Dave looked away, seemingly upset, and Karkat quickly changed his tone, “But, I can still see myself living here. Let me think about it more tonight. I might be able to move in next month, okay?”

“I hope so. I’ll be waiting for you.” Dave yawned, curling back up underneath the sheets, “Night, Karkat.”

“Goodnight, Dave.” He stepped out of his Matesprit’s bedroom and out of his house. Rather than taking the familiar directions back home, he took a side trip to John’s house. He shivered. Even now, he wasn’t used to the cold. He shoved his hands in his pockets, puffing on his cigarette and trying to keep as warm as he could in his thinly knit sweater. 

Upon reaching John’s house, he took the cigarette from his mouth, dropping it on the sidewalk and smearing it with the heel of his shoe. He coughed, clearing smoke from his lungs and looked at the windows. It was late, but one of the windows was lit, signaling that John might still be awake. 

Overcome by a strange nervousness, Karkat sighed and walked to the front door. He reached a fist out, ready to knock, but his anxiety stopped him. He drew back, staring wistfully ahead at nothing except the white wood of the door. Hands shaking, he digged around in his pockets and drew out his last cigarette, lighting it and blowing smoke. 

Why was he acting like this? It wasn’t like he was intruding on anything. John was probably still awake. He sighed, rubbing his temples. He was starting to get lightheaded from the nicotine. Without looking back, he shrugged and walked off. A part of him always felt unwelcome around John. He had been an asshole to him, and he always felt like there was an awkwardness between the two, though he wanted to consider John his best friend. 

“He fucking hates me, what’s the point?” Karkat muttered underneath his breath as he walked off, kicking stones underneath his feet, embracing the cold’s shadow, alone.

*

You run your hands underneath the cool water of your sink, splashing it onto your face. Your clothes were drenched in cold sweat, and beads of it still ran down your forehead. Your head hurt so fucking bad. After you dried your face off, you grabbed the bottle of pain pills and opened it, popping some in your mouth.

You peeled off your clothes. They stuck to your skin like leather seats on a hot summer day. You stared at yourself in the mirror, becoming lost, your blue eyes dull and lifeless. Dark circles shadowed underneath your heavy lids. When was the last time you got any decent sleep since visiting Dave? You kept waking up, hyperventilating, but not being able to remember the nightmare that spooked you.

Turning off the bathroom light, you walked to the cojoined bedroom and crawled into bed, closing your eyes and falling back asleep.

Fear strikes you. Hands. There are hands all over you. They touch you, stroke your chest, down the front of your pants, inside you, shoving deep. _Get off me please. Who are you? Why are you doing this?_ You are pinned down, unable to move. When you scream, nothing comes out. It feels like your vocal chords have been snapped and ripped from your throat.

It all comes back in rapid flashes. Dave. His hands are on you. He touches your clit and smirks, voice laced with snake venom, _I thought so, you fucking tranny._ His fingers dig into you, parasitic. You’re crying. This is your best friend, why is he doing this to you? Wasn’t he dating Karkat? He removes his fingers and you run and run, but then you’re falling, down. You see the coffee table, and it hits you.

You wake up screaming. Bile rises in your throat. Before you can get up, you lean over and vomit all over the carpet. Your lungs heave, throat hoarse. You think you hear his voice in the room with you. Wildly, you look around, see blurs of his shape dart around your bed like a predatory animal. His voice fills your head. _I love you, John. It’s okay, I won’t hurt you._ You close your eyes and hide under the covers but you can still feel his hands all over you, and a pressure inside you. It burns. It hurts so bad. Blood. You can feel it, dripping out of you, making a mess. _I’m not done yet, bitch._ You want him to kill you. You wish he had killed you, why didn’t he kill you? 

You scream some more, running back into the bathroom. You look at yourself in the mirror, eyes wild, hair a mess, deranged. You think you see Dave behind you, but when you look he disappears. Where is he? Your brain is on fire, and you’re dizzy. You want to smash your head into the mirror. Just crack your fucking skull open. 

You’re not sure what to do. Are you still dreaming? You bite your own arm, nothing happens. Pain, pain, pain. You scream some more, look around frantically, delve into the drawer, take the straight razor your dad had. Without thinking, you slice into the skin on your wrist. Blood bubbles to the cut, dripping out. It hurts, but there’s a relief to it. You keep cutting. You want to cut down to the bone, cut away your skin until there’s nothing left. You don’t want to feel anything.

Lightheaded, you fall to your knees. There’s blood everywhere. As you ran out of your bed, your phone had fallen out of your pocket. It was laying there, on the tile floor, cracked screen glistening red. Weakly, blood still running out of your wrists, you scroll through your contacts and dial Rose. You choke back a sob as you hear the machine pick up. You wail into your voicemail and just start babbling. A beep sounds over the tiny speaker as the recording ends. 

You scroll through more of your contacts, and see Dave’s name. You only see hazy red. You dial his number. Of course, he picks up.

“Yo, John, what’s up?”

“You fucking liar, Dave. You’re a fucking liar. I hate you.”

“... What? John, what are you talking about? Are you okay?” 

“Stop it. Just stop. You know what you did. Don’t lie. You fucking raped me.”

The receiver crackled. Static silence spread for more than a minute. Your heart pounded in your chest, your teeth gritted, head throbbing in pain.

“Egbert, listen closely. If you tell _anyone_ about what happened, I will fucking kill you, do you understand? I’m not fucking around either. You’re fucking dead if you say anything, that’s a promise.” The receiver clicked. Dave was gone.

You yelled, throwing your phone at the wall and curling on the tile floor, sobbing as you covered yourself in your own blood. Dave’s words rang in your head. You weren’t safe. Maybe you were never safe. You stared at your dad’s razor. Images flashed before you, of his bloody body, slain by Jack Noir. You took it in your hands, plunged deeper and deeper into your flesh until you were alive from being close to death.


	2. the truth and the secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> john learns that truth really is stranger than fiction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think i'll update this every ten days, or every week. i'm not sure yet.
> 
> uh, this chapter sucks writing wise i'm super sorry. i've been so out of it, and a lot of stuff has happened in my personal life since writing the first chapter. i have a ton of debt and money problems and things i should have sorted out months ago but... i have Problems.
> 
> expect the next couple chapters to improve. i think there's going to be two more? not sure yet. oh! and, i made a playlist for this fanfiction lol. it's only available on spotify, but i have plans on uploading it to 8tracks too (i just can't at the moment because. literally today my internet service got shut off. i'm using my phone's hotspot to post this). here's the link: https://open.spotify.com/user/anillegiblemess/playlist/5cJBWAK0MOKgN4vpTaqoEx?si=31dA-matR82KYtX2EgCEiA
> 
> hope you guys are enjoying this fanfic... its a fucking mess.

Instead of going back to his house like he had planned to, Karkat had taken a pitstop by Kanaya and Rose's house, wanting to talk with and be near his Moirail. Kanaya stayed up with him for the remainder of the night, as he talked about Dave and the goings on in his life. He could sense that Kanaya knew something was bothering him, for it was unlike him to come to her house so unannounced, but Karkat didn't have the heart to tell him for he couldn't explain it himself. 

Rose woke early, coming downstairs and greeting Karkat, then giving Kanaya a kiss on the cheek. She went to the kitchen and the smell of freshly brewed tea wafted into the living room. She offered a cup to Kanaya, which she politely declined. Rose sat at the dining table, giving the pair of Moirails some room to talk in their native language and scrolled through her phone, checking her voicemails.

Karkat was just in the middle of getting to his point about his feelings with John, when Kanaya briefly glanced over at Rose and trailed off midsentence. Karkat looked with her only to find Rose with her phone held to her ear, a look of deep concern on her face. Karkat had almost never seen her like that, and he could see why Kanaya was worried.

Kanaya sat up off the couch and approached her Matesprit, laying a hand on her shoulder, “Rose? Is everything alright?”

Rose shook her head, “I'm afraid not. Listen to this voicemail I received from John last night.” She hit the replay button on her phone and passed it to Kanaya, and she listened intently, furrowing her brows. 

She took the phone away from her ear and sighed, “You're right. This is definitely not normal and is cause for concern.”

“Wait, is it something with John? Is he okay?” Karkat piped up from the couch, sitting up and walking over to join them. Silently, Kanaya passed Rose's phone over to him, and he too listened in on the mysterious voicemail.

He couldn't really quite tell what John was babbling about, but he was obviously sobbing and very upset. His voice broke into cracks and mumbles, mixed in with hiccups and heavy breaths. It was surreal to hear John like this, and it freaked Karkat out. He shook his head, giving the phone back to Rose, “Jesus fuck... I don't even have words for that.”

Rose sighed, staring at the bright screen, “I don't know what to do. We should definitely go check up on him. I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Me too. It might be for the best that we make sure he's alright.” Kanaya replied, nodding.  
“I'll come with you guys too.” Karkat grabbed his jacket off the back of the couch and put it on. Kanaya and Rose didn't protest. They both went back upstairs and got better dressed for the unnaturally cold weather.

They all made their way to John's house in hushed, fearful silence. As Karkat stepped closer and closer to John's property, he couldn't help but feel his heart beat faster and an overall sense of dread crawl into his bones and overcome him. 

Rose was the one to approach his door first. She knocked twice. When there was no answer, she knocked again and called out to her friend, “John, it's Rose. I got your voicemail from last night and it worried me, so I decided to visit you. Kanaya and Karkat are here. Please let us in, we'd like to help.” 

They waited five minutes, and once more, there was no response. Rose reached out to knock again, mumbling under her breath that he might be asleep, when she stopped. She looked back at Kanaya and Karkat, “The door. It's been left ajar.” She whispered. Slowly, she pushed it open and stepped inside.

“John?” She called, as they all filed in to his house. Karkat wrinkled his sensitive nose, plugging it. It _stunk_ in his house. He looked around and noticed empty and half full bottles and cans of soda, trash from candy and snack wrappers, dirty laundry strewn everywhere. The carpet was a mess, crumbs stuck inside the fibers. Dust lined the surface of all the tables in the room. 

“This place is a mess.” Kanaya whispered, nasally, as she too had plugged her nose. Trolls had very sensitive senses of smell, and this was too much for the both of them. 

“I didn't think it would be this bad. If you both would like to step out now, I understand.” Rose apologized softly. 

Kanaya shook her head, and Karkat muttered, “I'll deal with it.”

They continued their descent upwards where John's bedroom was. Like the front door, the door to the bedroom was left open. Hesitantly, Rose pried it open and its hinges creaked. She called out John's name once more, and then flipped on the light switch.

“He isn't in here.” She said in astonishment, walking further into the room. Kanaya and Karkat followed. 

As soon as he stepped foot into John's bedroom, a new scent hit Karkat's nostrils. Alarm bells rang in his head. A choking, metallic, rotten scent struck him. He had to refrain from gagging. Blood. Lots of it. He looked over at Kanaya, who's eyes were widening. She seemed to have smelled it as well. 

Rose was completely unaffected. Being a human, her senses weren't as sharp as a troll's. She continued to look around, expecting to see John hiding somewhere as a prank. She then went over to the adjoined bathroom, where the scent came the strongest. Kanaya was just about to reach out and warn her, but before she was able to, Rose opened the door and gasped.

Karkat peered into the bathroom between her, and saw a rather grotesque and gory scene. John was splayed out on the tile floor, red blood smeared all over the white marble. Deep gashes had been carved into his wrists and arms, still dripping. His phone had been thrown to the opposite side of the room, screen shattered. His glasses were nowhere to be seen. A straight razor was weakly clasped in his fist. 

Rose knelt by his side, holding him. In the bright light, Karkat could see that John was still taking shallow breaths, though his eyes were closed and he was clearly unconscious. 

“Should we call for help?” Kanaya asked, voice wavering in worry. 

“Wait.” Rose said. She was staring intently at John. His chest continued to rise and fall until it stopped. Karkat was beginning to panic. What was Rose doing? 

After a couple of silent minutes of Rose staring at the dying and now dead John, Karkat could feel a breeze run through the building. It seemed to caress John's still body, blowing his hair and clothes back. His body began to glow and flash in rainbows of colors. Karkat realized what was happening. He had almost forgotten about John and his friend's God Tier immortality, and since John's death was neither heroic nor just, he was able to be returned to life. Slowly, the scars on John's body faded and healed, and his blood dissipated into nothingness. 

The breeze tapered off, and it was quiet in John's house once more. Audible groaning came from John's mouth, and slowly he opened his eyes, squinting at the bright light. He yelped when he saw Rose and scrambled out of her grasp, backing up into the far wall of the bathroom, eyes wide. 

“It's okay, John, it's just me, Rose.” Rose said softly, slowly approaching him. 

Realization flowed back into John's face, and he blinked, rubbing his eyes squinting, “Rose? Sorry, I can't see. I don't know where my glasses are...” He looked around for them, pawing at the tile floor. Kanaya walked out of the bedroom and returned with his glasses in her hands.

“Here, they were on your night stand.” She passed them to him. 

He thanked her, and then rubbed his temples, “So... So what are you guys all doing here? Kinda weird that you're intruding in my house, I didn't expect any guests...”

Rose blinked, “You really don't remember, John? You called me last night. I was unable to answer my phone because I was asleep. You left a voicemail that concerned me, so Kanaya, Karkat and I decided to check up on you. When we got to your house, your front door was left open. We found you here on the bathroom floor, dying... It looked like a suicide attempt.”

John stared at her in confusion, slowly shaking his head, “I... I don't remember anything. Honestly, I don't. I'm sorry you guys found me like that...” He trailed off, fingers still on his head, rubbing at a spot on his scalp. 

Karkat noticed inbetween John's movements a faint gash on his skull, “John... Where did you get that injury from?”

“Wh-Wha? You mean the one on my head?” John clapped a hand around it, grimacing as he did so, “I got it from my birthday party. Dave said I was super drunk and I tripped and fell and hit my head.” 

Rose narrowed her eyes, “This must have been after everyone left... I know you stayed a little longer with Dave afterwards. It should have been healed by now, though, your party was over a month ago. Does it still hurt?”

John nodded, “Yeah, a little... I've been taking pain medication but not a lot helps.”

“That's very concerning. You need to see a doctor, it could be serious.” Rose urged.

“I'm _fine_.” John squeezed his fists, looking away from Rose. His eyes were blazing with a form of stubborness Karkat didn't understand. 

Rose sighed and stood up, “Well, if you think you're alright, we'll leave you be.” 

Silence stretched between the two. John still wasn't making eye contact, eyes focused on the strands of marbling in the tile. He nodded, and Rose ushered both Kanaya and Karkat out of John's house. 

As Kanaya pulled Karkat away, he kept glancing back at John, watching him sit there, lonesome, curled in on himself. A familiar ache tugged and wrenched at his heart. He felt like crying. Why did he feel like crying?

*

You groaned as your head throbbed. It felt like someone was beating and punching at your skull, a part of you trying to let itself out. Once Rose and crew left, you had been attempting to get off the floor for five minutes, but to no avail. Every time you tried, dizziness would wash over you, your eyes would water from pain, and you would drop back down to your knees.

You sighed, falling back over and laying your cheek against the cold, tile floor, letting the chill soak into your body, sending goosebumps running up your arms. You don't remember anything from the night before. You try to reach back but your head aches in response, so you give up, curl in on yourself and fall asleep.

You're at Dave's house again. Smoke lines the room head to toe, and you're drowning in the scent of marijuana. It clings to your clothes, now your skin. Someone is taking off your clothes. Who's taking off your clothes? You hear him. _It's okay._ You hate his voice. It's not okay. It really isn't okay. His hand brushes past your clit, you hear him call you a tranny. It digs into your brain. That's what you are. Disgusting, foul... Now his fingers are in you, twisting the knife deeper. Why can't you get up? Why can't you shake him off? 

You're running when he pulls away. _I'm not done yet, bitch._ That's when you fall, and your head snaps into an aching pain, but you don't black out this time. You feel him on you again. Is this still part of the dream? Is this all a dream of some sick, twisted fantasy you have? Your clothes are torn from you, and your mouth utters a groan, but you're limp like a doll, sprawled on the floor, face squished against the carpet stained with tobacco ash and smelling of musk. You hear the shuffle of his clothes, him lifting your hips and intense pressure inside you. He's inside you. You know he is. 

It hurts so bad. You want to scream, but you're frozen in fear. A rabbit in the eyes of the wolf. Blood trickles down your face, head searing, on fire. The feeling of bugs all over you, crawling. Spiders making webs. It intensifies as he thrusts into you. _You're so tight._ It sounds like acid. Everything burns.

Your whole body shakes. Your clit strains and begs for touch. You hate your body. You groan again. You can almost hear his smirk. He laughs, a short, curt laugh. You want to gouge his eyes out with the fingers he shoved inside you. _Such a good boy._ He compliments, like a dog. A filthy, mangy mongrel of a dog. His hands brush past your clit again, rubbing circles. You grit your teeth. If only you could just fucking scream. Why can't you scream?

He quickens his pace, his touch becoming harder. Your legs shake violently. You rip at the carpet as you climax against your will and your want. You want to die. 

He finishes afterwards, filling you up. His warm cum drips between your thighs, rotting the skin it touches. You feel like a corpse. Is this what it feels like to be murdered? He leans down and kisses your neck. You feel his teeth graze your soft skin. _Goodnight, John._ He whispers. He takes his hand and grabs your hair, slamming your already swollen, bleeding head against the edge of the coffee table. The lights go out.

You wake up, back at home, head splitting open in pain. You choke as the bile in your throat rises, and you retch whatever was left in your hollow stomach. You are clad in sweat and shivering, sobbing. You can't tell if it was a dream or real. You just can't tell. You see your phone, screen cracked in the corner and grab it, dialing someone. Anyone. The name Karkat Vantas flashes on screen, and you hit the call button.

*

Karkat took a draw from his cigarette, narrowing his eyes at Dave sitting on the couch, playing Monster Hunter on his PS4. He was chewing gum, blowing bubbles, eyes fixated on the screen. Karkat hadn't slept at all since returning from John's house. He went straight over to Dave's, mind brimming with questions. In all his life of knowing John, he had never seen or heard him so upset. He had basically watched John's attempted suicide, and the last person that John ever had contact with was Dave.

“Hey, Dave.” Karkat started. 

Dave continued slashing at the dragon looking monster in the game, mashing various button combinations, “Hm?” 

“What happened that night during John's party, after everyone left, and it was just you and John?” 

Dave unleashed his weapon's super move, dealing massive damage to the monster, “We just hung out, drank some more booze and took a couple bong hits. Why?” 

“Is that really what happened, though, Dave?” Karkat pressed. He was buying Dave's stories less and less. He took a big draw on his cigarette, puffing out smoke.

Dave's characted took a hit from the beast, and he fainted. Dave sighed, setting his controller down and rubbing his temples, “I don't know why you want to know all this shit. Do you think I'm being unfaithful, Karkat? 'Cause that's far from the truth, I hope you know that. I would never do that to you, ever.” His tone was abrasive and rough. Karkat blinked. He _knew something was up._

“I'm not suggesting that at all, Dave. I'm only asking because I just came back from John's house. He had sent a concerning voicemail to Rose last night, and we both investigated. His house was completely unlocked and we found him in a pool of his own blood, his wrists hacked up. He tried to kill himself. In all my time of knowing John, I have _never_ seen him that upset to the point of wanting to die. I'd expect that from _myself_ , not him.”

Dave threw his hands up in the air, “Well, what the hell do you want me to do about it?”

“Dave, please. You were the last person he spoke to.” 

“Oh, so you're suggesting I'm at fault for this? What the fuck, Karkat? You know as well as I do that his dad died around this time. Every year he increasingly gets more and more upset over his dad. I wouldn't doubt it if he decided to off himself over the guilt he feels. His dad fucking loved him, man. They were super close. Don't you dare suggest something like that to me again, Karkat. John is my best friend, I would never do anything to hurt him.” His voice raised until he was practically yelling. 

Karkat took a couple more puffs on his cigarette, surprised. He sighed, shaking his head, “Alright, I'm sorry, Dave. I didn't mean to make it sound like I was calling you out.” He smushed his cigarette in the ash tray.

Dave rolled his eyes, “Whatever, man. Fuck off.” He got off the couch and walked upstairs in a huff. Karkat still didn't believe a single word from his mouth. 

He was about to go upstairs and try to calm his boyfriend down, when his phone rang. He checked it. It was John. He answered, a sinking feeling growing deep in his stomach, “Hello?”

“Um...” There was sniffling and hiccuping on the other line, “Karkat?”

“Yeah, it's me. John, is everything okay?”

He burst out crying, “I just need to talk to someone... Can you stop by my place, please?”

“Sure, I'll be there in a second. Hang tight, okay?” John muttered a sound of agreement and Karkat hung up. He glanced at the staircase, shrugged, then quickly gathered his things. He was starting to get pissed off at how Dave was acting. Everything just seemed wrong and he didn't like it one bit.

*

The front door was still unlocked when Karkat arrived. He raced upstairs only to find John in the same place he was. Laying on the tile floor, crying. Karkat knelt by him quietly. John attempted to sit up, but gave up and fell back down onto the floor, still sobbing and hiccuping.

Karkat didn't know what to say or do. He sat down and waited for him to stop crying, or at least calm down enough to become coherent. 

Eventually, John managed to crack out some words, “I-I don't have any other way to say this, so I'll just say it. And I don't even know... I don't even know if it's real or not. I need help, I just need to tell someone...” He sniffled, wiping away his tears. 

Karkat prepared himself. His heart was racing. He didn't know where this was going. He took out his pack of cigarettes and lit one. He then offered another to John, who took it and he lit his cigarette for him. They both took draws, flicking ash into the toilet bowl. 

“He raped me.” John said, breaking the silence. Karkat looked back at him, eyes wide.

“Who?”

“Dave.” 

Karkat took a deep drag of his cigarette. His heart was racing, yet, whether or not it was the nicotine, Karkat couldn't help but feel a strange sense of calm at this revelation. It explained Dave's odd behavior, his suspicious attitude. Something had definitely switched in his partner after John's birthday. Hell, he had noticed weird things before John's birthday. He was more intimate, more demanding. Karkat guessed if Dave couldn't get anything out of him, he'd force it onto other people. 

“I know it's not what you want to hear. He is your boyfriend... I'm sorry.” John mumbled, still sniffling.

“It's fine. I was suspecting something was up ever since your birthday party. I love him, I really do... But goddamn, that fucking asshole. Did he give you your head injury too?”

John shook his head, “I'm not sure. I have very confusing memories. I slipped and hit my head on his coffee table, and then he slammed my head against it one more time. At least I think so.”

“Listen, I believe you. Whatever you say, I'll suspect is the truth. Even if Dave denies it. Speaking of which, I need to talk to him-”

“No!” John grabbed Karkat's hand, squeezing it, he started crying again, staring deep into Karkat's eyes, “Please... Please don't tell him I told you about this. I don't... I can't remember, but I have a very bad feeling about it. Something terrible will happen if you tell. Please don't, I'm begging you.”

Karkat squeezed John's hand back, nodding, “Okay, John, I won't tell.”

“Thank you...” John trailed off, flicking his finished cigarette into the toilet. Karkat took one last hit and did the same. 

John held onto his hand for several minutes longer, staring off into space, “Karkat, I have another thing to tell you. Please don't tell this to another soul. I'm...” John sighed, taking another pause, “I'm transgender... A trans man.”

_Transgender._ This was a human word Karkat did not understand, “I'm sorry, John, I don't really know what that is.”

“Well, basically, when I was born, I was assigned as female. I have female parts. But, as I grew up, I began having feelings of being uncomfortable in my own body due to the gender I was assigned as. I wanted to be a guy, and be addressed by the male pronoun. I wanted male parts. I was experiencing what's known as gender dysphoria. I knew about this since I was a little kid, and I told my dad about what I was feeling and he helped me by buying me guy clothes and calling me John, the name I wanted to go by and still go by. I got top surgery last year for my nineteenth birthday. I'm not on hormones yet, but I'm looking into it. I'm still trying to decide if it's what I want. That's... That's basically it.” John was looking away the entire time. 

Karkat thought it was interesting, and he didn't see why John should be ashamed of how he felt, but human society and culture were far different from anything a troll went through and experienced. He knew about human anatomy because of Dave. Unlike trolls, humans only had one set of genitalia, and there were more differences between male and female humans than male and female trolls. As a result, they had more problems with gender identity and sexuality than trolls did. Trolls had far more important things to worry about, like blood color and the caste system. 

“John, if you say you're a guy, then you're a guy. I don't have any problems with how you feel. Though... You bringing up that you have female genitalia... That poses a problem. I hate to bring this up on you, because I know it's sensitive shit and all, but do you remember if Dave was wearing any kind of protection?” 

John's lip started quivering, and once more tears were piling in the corners of his eyes, “No... No, he... I think he came inside me. I felt it and everything, it was so gross...” 

Karkat sighed, “This probably isn't what you want to hear, but sometimes you gotta get through all the fucked up shit first before you can really heal. John, there's a possibility you could be pregnant. You need to take some sort of pregnancy test.” 

John seemed to cry harder at this but nodded his head, whispering, “Okay.”

“Here, I've got money, I'll go to the store and get some over the counter ones you can use.” Karkat put his cigarette pack back in his pocket and stood up.

“Wait, I'll go with you.” John piped up. He attempted to scramble to his feet, but he hissed in pain clapping a hand to his head injury and falling back down, “I'm... I'm so dizzy.”

Karkat helped him up, “Here, lean on my shoulder. Change of plans, I'm taking you to a hospital.” 

John rested his weight against him, “Wh-why?” He stammered.

“John, you look like shit. Your head injury hasn't gotten any better since you got it, and they have more accurate pregnancy tests there. Don't push yourself like this, dumbass. You need help.” 

John halted in his tracks and Karkat looked at him, “Don't wuss out on me like this, Egbert, let's go.” Karkat ushered. 

“Promise me you won't tell them what Dave did to me. Please?”

“How the fuck else do I explain you needing a pregnancy test?”

“Lie. Please.” John gave him the same, puppy dog look he had given Karkat earlier, “I just don't want anyone else to know.” 

He sighed, “Alright. It's between you and me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (again, i am a victim of sexual abuse. i write things like this to cope. thanks for coming to my ted talk).

**Author's Note:**

> this is so sad alexa play karkalicious.
> 
> (also before anyone asks.... yes, i am a victim of sexual abuse... i write shit like this to cope.... pls dont hate me for targeting dave..... small voice. small baby bird. thank u).


End file.
